Page 37 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

“You know.” My cheeks heat. I glance at his smirk, then back to the bowl, fidgeting. “That.”

“I cannot pluck the words from your mind, Blossom.” Pikr rounds the table. He hovers the bowl in front of me, the savory scents wafting down until I glare up at him. “What do you speak of?”

“You know,” I grind through my teeth. My insides are warm and fizzy, like bubbling stew. “Licking each other.”

“My mate is so powerful and commanding. She speaks her truth like a true goddess.” He sets the steaming bowl down and leans into my space, twirling a loose tress of my hair around his finger. “Yet when it comes to admitting how hungry she is to coat my tongue with her sweet honeyed cum, she hesitates.”

“I do not hesitate,” I snap. I nab the fork from his hand and turn my fury toward the delicacy before me to hide the heat on my cheeks. “I simply have manners, which you clearly lack, you rustic clod.”

“Ah, of course, my little witch. Forgive me.”

Determined to prove my point, I stab a parsnip and grumble into my bowl, “Besides, I hunger more to taste the slick that leaks from your long, centaur cock.”

Pikr chuffs, then looses a gruff whinnying sound, his front hooves trotting in place. I chance a peek at him, enjoying the way my words disarm the towering, barbaric centaur. I vow to use my tongue against him more often, both in a sexual sense and with barbed quips.

“Don’t worry, my love.” The word sounds so natural as he settles against the reclined lounge across the table. “There’s a budding sprout of naughtiness within you. I’ll coax it into the sunlight during our years together.”

I want to argue that there is no such seed hidden inside me, or if there is, it’s not hiding. But the first bite of meat lands on my tongue, and squabbling about my naughtiness melts from my mind like the flavors coating my taste buds as I moan.

“Oh, yes, little Witch.” Pikr groans, adjusting himself under the table. “I’m withering to discover all the ways I can coax that sound from you.”

Sweet, needful heat pools between my legs. I squirm in my seat, sure I’ll leave a mark on the chair he so thoughtfully placed for me if he keeps speaking this way. “May I eat this delicacy in peace?”

“Certainly, as you’ll know little peace from now on.” He lifts his bowl and slurps from the rim, his black and white gaze pinning me over the edge.

“Rosy,” I drone sarcastically. I sink my teeth into a soft parsnip, sighing as it fills my mouth with flavor.

“Don’t feign modesty with me, Stranger. You wished for a lusty centaur. Now you have one, and I will wring pleasure from you in ways your fantasies could never conjure.”

“You’re barbaric.” I never wished for a lusty centaur, only for this particular centaur, but I don’t correct him. I take another bite of crested noxwing. “Pikr, this is delicious.”

“I’m pleased you like it.”

After a few moments, it appears my change in topic worked. I enjoy the next few bites with all of my focus, no dirty thoughts clouding the bouquet of senses before me.

“Have you used the oil?” Pikr breaks the silence, proving me wrong and sending a rush of heat over my skin to shoot straight through my core.

“Erm,” I cough, then have to dab broth from my lips.

He chuckles. “The scent of your reaction says yes. How does it feel?”

“So good,” I admit. I slurp some broth and bravely meet his gaze. “It feels so good. Tingly, warm.”

“Thank you for telling me.” He wraps his lips around a cube of meat, watching me as he chews, then swallows. “Did you coat the toy with it, as I instructed?”

I nod. My hands drop to my lap, and I squeeze my thighs. “I did.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It felt so, so good.” I squirm in my seat and search my vocabulary for any words other than good. “It makes me so wet, and I can take the …toy deeper.”

“Wonderful news.” Pikr smiles, but it’s the smile of an apex predator about to devour hard-earned prey. He takes a sip of cider, and I reach for mine to do the same. “How many times have you used the toy with the moondust oil?”

My neck warms. I debate telling a lie, embarrassed by how many times I’ve used the thick centaur cock replica since our failed attempt at a lover’s frolic.

Pikr quirks a brow and leans his forearm on the table. “More than twice?”

My eyes widen. I freeze.